Distorted
by coconutmandarin
Summary: You're an adulterer, Kinomoto Sakura. Why? Because you're engaged to a man when you're already married to another.
1. Prologue

**Distorted**

Sakura Kinomoto has a perfect life: she has a good job, lots of friends, and a man whom she loves. But her idealistic dream is shattered when one day, a handsome man appears on her doorstep, claiming to be her husband. Is he telling the truth?

**I'm starting another story! Yeah, yeah, I know, my other stories aren't finished but I got the idea for this story while doing my psychology homework a long time ago so this fanfiction will be a psychological drama/thriller. Hope you guys enjoy it!

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**Prologue**

_Hong Kong, China_

There was a mile-long line of cars on the highway, stuck in a traffic jam. The summer heat was exhausting, nerves were tight, and the tension was high. Loud beeps were heard as the impatient drivers honked their horns in vain, hoping that their efforts would somehow magically dispel the wreckage that blocked the road.

The chief of police wiped his sweaty brow. Tall and slightly heavy, Ma Yui-Long was fifty-two years old, and never once in his thirty-year long career had he witnessed a car crash as catastrophic as the one in front of him. Dozens of police cars and ambulances were gathered around the wreckage of metal and carnage, their sirens blaring and adding to the noise created by the other drivers. Paramedics were pulling out bodies, mangled and mutilated, while survivors were being treated or interviewed by the just-arrived press. If there was hell on earth, this was it.

_A big, fuckin' disaster. _Chief Ma swallowed hard as he pulled on his tie. He was desperately trying to do everything at once: directing his officers, answering questions from the press, and trying to solve the problem of the line of cars behind him that was quickly getting longer and longer.

"Chief Ma," one reporter called out, "can you explain to us what happened?"

"Chief, how many are dead?"

"Can you please tell us what measures your team is taking to solve this chaos?"

Ma shook his head as he fought to keep his temper under control. _Damn all these reporters!_ "If you will please be patient," he said, gritting his teeth, "I will answer all questions in the morning at ten in front of the police office. This is a great tragedy and we are working together with the paramedics to resolve this problem." Turning to his second-in-command, Chen Tong, he growled, "Get them out of here."

"Will do, Chief."

As Ma stalked away from the reporters, another one of his officers came up to him. Recognizing it as the man who he sent to collect statistics, he immediately asked, "How many dead?"

"Fifteen dead, six survivors, four of whom are in critical condition."

"Jesus. What about the drunk dumbass that caused all of this?"

"Dead. He's on the stretcher over there." The officer pointed to a stretcher covered in a sheet that was soaked in blood.

"You didn't tell the press, did you?"

"No-"

"Chief!"

The two men turned to see another officer run towards them.

"What is it, Liu?" Ma barked.

"The press," he panted, "they got wind of the stats! They're singing right now!"

"Fuck. _Fuck_!" He swore. "This is what I need, family and friends coming over here to scream at me. Sheng, go tell the press there's been a miscount. Liu, go find out if they've come up with a plan to reroute traffic. If not, tell them to get a move on it or I'll have their asses for breakfast. _Fried_."

The two officers quickly hurried off to do as they were told. Chief Ma took a deep breath as he walked to the ambulance area. The paramedics were working quickly and efficiently, expertly treating wounds and wheeling stretchers to the ambulances. One stretcher was in the process of being lifted and Ma could see its occupant. Her auburn-colored hair was tangled and matted with blood, and the honey color of her skin could barely be seen underneath all the blood of the gashes and cuts on her face and neck. Judging by the bloodstains on the sheet covering the rest of her body, Ma guessed that the wounds were not limited just to the woman's face.

"Will she be okay?" He asked, indicating the young woman lying motionless on the stretcher, her eyes closed.

The nurse shook her head. "We don't know yet. She received a severe concussion."

"Will she ever wake up?"

"If she does, she probably will have amnesia." The nurse sighed. "Poor girl. So beautiful and so young, barely started living yet. Not to mention her child."

Ma blinked in confusion. "Child?"

"She was pregnant."

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**In case you haven't guessed...the woman is Sakura. I have no clue where this story is going...it's just a whim...but if you like it, review!**


	2. One: Sakura

**Due to rules, I cannot reply to my reviewers in my stories. Sorry! But seems like so far, most of my reviewers are ones that haven't reviewed or read my other stories. A new bunch of people. Awesome. I'm actually surprised at the number of people who reviewed this so I guess I'll keep on with this story.

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**I. Sakura**

_Tokyo, Japan_

It was another summer's afternoon in Tokyo. Even though it was stifling hot, the usually glaringly bright sun was hidden behind thick layers of smog that tinted the sky yellow. The city streets and highways were jammed with cars, stuck in the after-work rush of traffic. Those who chose to walk back home had to breathe in the poisonous fumes of the cars' exhaust, while beads of perspiration ran down their faces and bodies. It was another day for most people, nothing new, nothing different. But 'most people' did not include Kinomoto Sakura, and as she walked down the street, she could barely keep herself from singing out loud.

_Everything's just perfect, _she thought jubilantly_. I got a promotion, a new apartment, and I'm going to marry the man I love. What more could I ask for? _

Kinomoto Sakura was twenty-six years old, with a slender figure, a pleasant, attractive face, a shining mass of auburn hair, and stunningly green eyes the shade of emeralds. She was not breathtakingly beautiful, but her above-average looks and bright personality were enough to attract attention and turn heads. Now as she walked into a nearby restaurant, passersby gave her a second glance, envying the happiness that she radiated.

"Alone, miss?" The waiter asked.

"Oh no," Sakura replied brightly, "I'm meeting a friend-"

"Sakura!" 

They both turned to see a woman waving in their direction.

"Oh I see her!" Sakura laughed. And with a nod of thanks, she walked toward her friend. "Konnichiwa Naoko!" she greeted the attractive brunette as she neared the table.

"Same to you, Sakura." Yanagisawa Naoko leaned forward conspiratorially. "So what do you have to tell me that can't wait another forty-eight hours?" Her brown eyes twinkled from behind stylish black frames.

Sakura smiled as she extended a slim, perfectly manicured hand. "This." On her fourth finger was a silver ring with three square-cut diamonds, their facets sparkling under the restaurant lights. Naoko gasped.

"Oh my god..._he didn't._" She said breathlessly as she took Sakura's hand and began examining the flawless jewels.

"We were going to announce it at the dinner party Saturday night but since you're my best friend...I don't think it's right to make you wait." She grinned.

"Good decision, good decision," Naoko murmured as fingered the ring. "When did he propose?"

"Sunday night."

"Sunday night?" Naoko shrieked. "You kept the news from me for four days?"

"Ranma wanted me to wait until Saturday!"

"I would have killed you if you told me then," Naoko snapped as she turned Sakura's hand from side to side. "How did he propose?"

"Popped the question over dinner."

"Where?"

"Cicerone."

"Ooh...nice."

Sakura giggled. "I know. Ranma said that the ring and the dinner probably cut him down a month's paycheck."

Naoko snorted. "More like a day. Even a Tiffany ring and dinner at one of Tokyo's most expensive restaurants wouldn't put a dent in your fiancé's salary. He's an investment banker. Going broke is not in their vocabulary."

"It's Cartier." Sakura laughed. "But _should _Ranma finance a bad venture one day, my new promotion should be able to cover our expenses."

"You got a promotion?"

Sakura beamed. "Vice-president of Tokyo Advertising. Can you believe it?"

"Of course I can." Naoko smiled. "Sakura you're just on a roll here! What other news?"

"I'm moving in with Ranma."

"Ooh...a townhouse in the Daikanyama district? Nice"

"It's _gorgeous_."

"Yeah, I'm jealous." Naoko leaned back in her seat and began to drum her fingers on the polished table surface. "Hm...Tsumori. Tsumori Sakura." She pretended to think. "I like it. Has a nice ring to it, you know?"

Sakura beamed. "I know, doesn't it?"

"Where are you planning to honeymoon?"

Sakura sighed and rested her chin on her handas she began to randomly trace the edges of her menu. "Well..." she began, "we were discussing this last night and we're thinking a wedding in the Caribbean would be nice and then honeymoon in Europe."

"Europe as a whole? Or a few particular countries?"

"England, France, Italy, and Greece, specifically."

"Good choices. I would _love _to spend a week in the Caribbean but with my schedule..." Naoko trailed off.

"I don't care how your schedule goes," Sakura replied lightly, "because you're the maid-of-honor!"

There was a slight thud as Naoko leaned forward and in the process, slammed into the table. "What?" she whispered. "Did you just ask me what I think you asked me?"

Sakura smiled. "If you thought I asked you to be my maid-of-honor, you're right."

Naoko started laughing gleefully. "Oh my god that is _fantastic_!" she squealed. Reaching over to take Sakura's hand in her own, Naoko said breathlessly, "Sakura, you're going to have the best damn wedding ever. I'll see to it myself." She smiled. "Who are you going to have design the wedding dress? Vera Wang? She's the absolute best in the business. She's Chinese-American and I've seen a couple of her designs-"

"No."

Naoko stopped and looked up at her friend. "What?"

"I said no." Sakura shook her head. "I've been looking at wedding magazines and one of them had this article on an up-and-coming designer here in Japan. The dresses she designs are gorgeous."

Naoko frowned. "I don't believe I've heard of any Japanese wedding dress designer...who is it?"

Sakura turned to her purse and pulled a magazine out. After flipping to the desired page, she set it in front of her friend and smiled.

"Tomoyo Daidouji."

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**This chapter is pretty short, but I promise they'll be longer! I'm desperately trying to write more and be more detailed so just bear with me. **


	3. Two: Syaoran

**Okay I guess some people are not understanding some things. Ranma is the name of Sakura's fiancée, only because I couldn't think of any other name.  


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**II. Syaoran**

_Hong Kong, China_

Li Corporation was one of the world's biggest companies, an international conglomerate that included computer divisions, oil wells, banks, airlines and numerous other profitable businesses. Richer and more influential than most countries, Li Corp was an empire that spanned almost four generations, built up from a small steel mill in Guangzhou. Controlled by a top echelon of executives bearing the family name, at the very helm of the board was Li Syaoran, the great-grandson of the company's founder.

Li Syaoran was tall, with messy chestnut-colored hair and piercing amber eyes that missed nothing. Extremely handsome, he was cordial in the most coolly indifferent way yet still had a magnetic presence that drew people to him. He was not excessively young, but in the eyes of his advisors, it was seen as such. Twenty-eight years old, he had been president and CEO of his clan's family company for three years. In those three years, Li Corp had expanded alarmingly, acquiring many new, lucrative enterprises that not only raised the company's net worth dramatically, but erased the doubt from the Elders' minds about Syaoran's ability. However, first impressions never completely disappear, and it was on a particular afternoon when they were discussing a new acquisition that nerves were tight and the tension was high.

"I'm telling you," one Elder snapped, "if they build a branch out here it will create competition and cut into our profits!"

Syaoran struggled to keep his temper in check as he replied evenly, "We will own both businesses so it'd double our profits rather than cut down on them!"

"Profits would most likely be half and half, which does not benefit us in any way because building and running another branch will add to the cost!"

"Competition is essential to establishing consumer loyalty-"

"This is ridiculous, Xiao Lang, did you lose your senses this morning?"

Syaoran gritted his teeth. "My morning went the way it always does, thank you."

"Then what the hell's wrong with you?" Another Elder snapped. "Is this business about your missing wife still distracting you? Dammit Xiao Lang, it's time to move on. Find another woman. There are plenty out there more beautiful than that naive Japanese-"

There was a loud crash as Syaoran jumped to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor. His lips were set in a thin line and his face was white with fury. "I refuse to give up on my wife," he said in a deadly quiet tone, "and if I hear any more of your _suggestions_, I will have you expelled from the clan." Surveying the looks of shock and anger on his Elders' faces, he said coldly, "The branch will be built, starting next month. I want the architects to have plans by then." There was a note of such finality in his voice that no one in the room dared contradict him, and taking one last look of condescension at his advisors, Syaoran returned to his office.

Setting down his briefcase, Syaoran slumped into his chair and took a deep breath. _Calm down, _he told himself, _it's nothing to get worked up about. _

His meditative state was interrupted when the door opened and a woman walked in. Her long black hair was tied in a low ponytail and as she walked over to the desk, the end of it swished around her back.

"Syaoran."

Syaoran opened his amber eyes. "Oh, it's you." The chair squeaked in protest as he slowly sat up. "I was about to tell my visitor to leave me alone but seeing that it's you..." he sighed. "My demand wouldn't be met, would it?" He smiled sardonically.

The woman smirked. "No, it wouldn't." She walked around the table to where Syaoran was sitting and sat on the desk in front of him, crossing her long legs. "I heard you threw a fit back there. What's wrong? Did the Elders get under your skin again about Sakura?"

Syaoran nodded and the woman rolled her eyes.

"Go figure."

"They called her naive this time."

The woman scoffed. "Please, Syaoran. If you're so intent on finding your wife and nothing will deter you from it, why are you getting so angry over what the Elders say? Fuck them. This is your wife. You're clan leader. You're the one who has the power to kick their sorry asses out of this clan."

"Meiling," Syaoran said exasperatedly, "I can't just punish the Elders for speaking their minds!"

"I would."

"That's because you're a vengeful bitch."

"Don't speak to your cousin that way, Li Xiao Lang."

Syaoran glared reproachfully at the woman in front of him, whose red eyes were looking at him with utter boredom. Meiling had been Syaoran's playmate since childhood and she was more than used to her cousin's antics. Nothing about Syaoran seemed to surprise her anymore.

_And to think I used to love him! _Meiling shook her head. She had thought she was in love with her cousin when they were children, but eventually she grew out of it. "Puppy love," her mother had called it. When Sakura came along, Meiling knew thatshe and Syaoran were meant to be, and it was she who cheered the loudest for them at their secret wedding in the Caribbean.

"Don't you have work to do?" Syaoran asked. "'Cause you realize that for every minute you're not working, the company's losing millions of dollars."

Meiling rolled her brilliant red eyes again. "Shut up, Syaoran. If you want me out, just tell me directly. I know you need your little alone time."

"Get out."

"That's more like it."

Walking to the door, Meiling said over her shoulder, "Don't get too depressed, cousin. Even if you don't find her, she'll come back."

Syaoran watched as the door closed behind his cousin. After a moment, he pulled out the desk drawer. From the organized collection of office materials, he took out a picture frame containing two photographs. In both of them was him and a woman, their faces smiling in happiness, both of them obviously very much in love with each other. Syaoran gently traced the outlines of the woman's face, his amber eyes filled with sadness and grief.

"Sakura..."

He was twenty-four years old when he first met Kinomoto Sakura at a party in Tomoeda, Japan. She was two years younger than him, bright, friendly, and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. To Syaoran, whose life had been nothing but preparations to meet family obligations, Sakura was like a breath of fresh air. She was fun to be around, intelligent, amusing, and able to read him like no other person ever had, and it didn't take much for Syaoran to know that she was the one.

They were in their second month of dating when Syaoran took Sakura to the very top of his company's building after dinner and against the backdrop of the glittering Hong Kong night sky, got on one knee and opened a red velvet box to show a sparkling white gold ring. He was a nervous wreck, blushing like hell and stumbling over his words before Sakura, highly amused and pitying him, stopped him with a kiss and slid the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand as a reply.

It took a week for the Li Clan to find out about what their precious heir had done but by then, the couple were gone. Much to the dismay of Syaoran's family, the two eloped to the Cayman Islands, where they were married in a short ceremony witnessed only by their closest friends. From there, they honeymooned in Europe-rode the gondolas in Venice, ascended the Eiffel Tower in Paris, got drenched by the London rain, and relaxed by the Mediterranean sea in Greece. Shortly after they returned to Hong Kong, Sakura got pregnant. It was the happiest period of Syaoran's life.

Syaoran was not a superstitious person, but with the string of events that occurred after his marriage, he knew that it was fate's way of cursing him for being so happy. Five months after Sakura first got pregnant, he received terrible news: his wife was involved in a car crash and was currently in critical condition. He had rushed to the hospital to find Sakura in a coma and his unborn child dead. Fate had been generous to him and now, it decided to be just as cruel. A few months after the accident, Syaoran went to the hospital to visit Sakura, but only to find her missing. Apparently, she had woken up and a nurse new to the hospital had thought Sakura was being discharged, and let her leave. The nurse was fired, but that didn't change the dreaded fact that Sakura was gone.

Now, looking at the photos of his wedding and honeymoon, Syaoran felt a sharp stab of despair. He could still remember the day he had said "I do" on a cliff overlooking the sparkling blue-green ocean, the warm Caribbean breeze blowing Sakura's softly-scented hair into his face as he leaned forward to kiss her on the lips. He could recall every detail of their first night together, how naive and unknowing they were in the act of lovemaking. He still remembered the deep tenor voice of the gondolier who serenaded them as they toured the canals in Venice, and how Sakura gasped in delight at the view of Paris from the Eiffel Tower. He recalled putting his arm around her as he pointed upwards to the Big Ben, and how both of them were so amazed at the blue-and-white scenery of elegant Greece. The two short years he had with Sakura had been magical, a dream-something that Syaoran was determined to reclaim.

Taking one last look at the photos, Syaoran gently placed it back in his drawer, facedown. He had immersed himself in his career after Sakura's disappearance, but he had never given up on his search for his wife. It had been two years, two years since Sakura vanished without a trace. Not once in those two years did Syaoran's investigators gain a lead.

Little did he know, soon they were going to get a breakthrough.

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**Meiling has made an appearance! I'm finally using the other characters.**


	4. Three: Sakura

**If people want dialogue and humor...go read Shrink in Law.

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**III. Sakura**

_Tokyo, Japan_

Tsumori Ranma was only twenty-nine years old but already he was one of the most influential people in Tokyo's business and financial world. He was one of the top investment bankers in Japan, a businessman who had the smarts, the connections, the handsome looks that made people want to be seen with him, and the innate sense of knowing what strings to pull. If two companies wanted to merge together, Ranma was the man to go to. If advice was needed, Ranma was sought out. There was no one in the industry who did not know Tsumori Ranma's name. He was by far the most competent, most popular investment banker, and everyone knew it.

One of Ranma's ways of getting to know people in the industry was to host cocktail parties. The social gatherings always took place at the Imperial Hotel and were the hottest ticket in Tokyo. Everyone longed for the coveted invitations. Not only did Ranma use these events to promote relationships between the power players of the world of business and finance, he used them as a way of getting to know those around him so he could gauge their strengths and weaknesses. Tonight was one of those anticipated nights only this time, there was one slight difference. It was a cocktail-slash-engagement party.

"Ranma, I'm nervous." Sakura whispered as they walked down the hallway. They were about to make their grand entrance in the ballroom, to announce to the two hundred or so people in there about their engagement. Ranma looked down at his fiancée, who was biting her glossed red lips.

"Don't be. They're going to love you."

"How do you know?"

Ranma stopped walking and turned to face Sakura. _I'm the luckiest man in the world, _he thought as he looked at his beautiful fiancée. Dressed in gold lace Chanel with her auburn hair swept up into a sleek chignon, Sakura was the picture of elegance. Except for that little nervous tic of hers to chew her bottom lip.

Putting a finger to her lips, Ranma said, "If you keep biting your lips, you're going to get lipstick smeared all over your teeth."

"It's gloss, Ranma."

"Whatever. They're both used for the lips."

Sakura giggled.

"That's more like it. Smile, laugh, be yourself and you'll charm everyone within the vicinity, baby. Ready?"

Sakura took a deep breath. "Ready."

Together, they walked into the ballroom. The room, which previously had been buzzing with noise from conversations, fell silent as soon as the couple entered. But as quickly as it fell quiet the people in the room once again resumed talking, only this time in hushed whispers.

"Who's that woman with Tsumori-san?"

"She's beautiful!"

"Oh they make a great-looking couple."

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Ranma's voice called out. The quiet chattering instantly died down as everyone turned their attention to the host. "Welcome to another party, another social gathering of the year. But tonight, it's not _just _a gala. Tonight is a very special night, not only for me, but for the woman standing beside me." Ranma paused to survey the crowd gathered before him, making sure he still had their attention. Satisfied, he continued. "Tonight is an engagement party, and I am pleased to announce that it is between me and a very special lady. Everyone, meet my fiancée, Kinomoto Sakura."

There was a loud burst of applause as Ranma announced the last part. Congratulations were shouted and people rushed up to greet the newly engaged couple. Sakura, new to these situations, smiled shyly as she pressed herself closer to Ranma.

"Darling," she whispered, "I think I'm going to go find people _I _know."

"Go ahead." Ranma gave her an encouraging smile as she excused herself from the group of people and left to find Naoko, who she knew was there. But as she circled the grand ballroom, Sakura found herself being accosted by so many people who congratulated her and fawned over her.

"Congratulations, Kinomoto-san."

"Oh you are so lucky, Kinomoto-san, to have nabbed one of the top bachelors around!"

"You must be the happiest woman alive, Kinomoto-san."

"You and Tsumori-san make such a beautiful couple!"

"Thank you, thank you," Sakura murmured with a smile forcibly plastered to her face. She tried to stand discreetly on her tiptoes so she could see above the crowd but found it hard as everybody's attention was on her. Trapped in by the crowd, Sakura suddenly felt claustrophobic. Feeling her lungs close up and her vision swim, she opened her mouth to ask a man to repeat his question when a hand gripped her arm strongly and began pulling her out of the mass of people. Turning to her savior, Sakura almost wept with relief when she saw that it was Naoko, who spotted her in the crowd of fancily dressed people and began steering her toward the exit to the gardens. When they were finally out of the hotel and in its tranquil gardens, Naoko led her toward a bench under a large, blossoming cherry blossom tree, where two other women sat.

"Sakura-chan!" They cried as they spotted Naoko leading the dazed guest of honor toward the fragrant tree.

"Give her some recovery time, will you?" Naoko snapped as she sat Sakura down on the cold stone bench. The two other women fell silent as Naoko began to gently pat Sakura's cheeks.

"Sakura? Are you alright?"

"What? Oh, yes I'm fine." Sakura said weakly. Breathing deeply, she bent over and put her face in her hands.

"God," she groaned, "if I knew that marrying such a prominent figure in Tokyo's business world would mean making a damn social debut, I would have said no!"

The other women laughed. "Oh Sakura-chan," one of them said gently, "if you truly love someone you'd do anything for them." A breeze rustled Terada Rika's short, chin-length bob as her large, liquid brown eyes twinkled. "That's what my husband told me when I told him my dad wanted to meet him."

Laughter rang out again. "Rika-chan," Sakura said, "if there's a perfect couple in this world it's you and Terada-san."

"Thanks, Sakura," the woman with her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail said sarcastically, "thanks."

"Oh Chiharu you and Takashi are cute too." Sakura added.

"The problem with you two is that you constantly beat him up." Naoko said flatly.

"What would you do if your husband lies every time he opens his mouth?" Yamazaki Chiharu snapped. "It's not like I have much of a choice!"

"Duct tape his mouth."

"I tried."

The four women giggled. "Marriage bliss, huh? Hey Naoko, when are you going to experience that, huh?"

Naoko snorted. "Me? Married? Don't shit me."

"Ah c'mon, Naoko-chan, every girl dreams of her Prince Charming."

"I don't."

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Chiharu snapped. "Are you lesbian or what?"

Naoko rolled her eyes. "I'm asexual."

The women laughed at her response.

"Okay you know what, it's not me you should be worrying about. Sakura's engaged!" Naoko squealed uncharacteristically.

"Right."

"Where are you guys getting married?"

"Cayman Islands, and honeymoon in Europe."

"Oh Takashi and I have a flat in Paris that you two can take on your honeymoon. Great views, _very _private." Chiharu winked at Sakura, who blushed.

"Chiharu, stop it!" Rika commanded. "Why are you so vulgar all the time?" Frowning at Chiharu as she smoothed out her skirt, Rika turned to Sakura. "Who's designing the dress?" she asked, her face completely devoid of the previous disapproval she had shown Chiharu.

"I'm going to call this new Japanese designer. I'm asking her to design the bridesmaids' dresses too, which you two will wear!"

"Really?" Rika sighed.

"Oh thank you, Sakura-chan!" Chiharu squealed as she threw her arms around her friend.

"When are you calling her?" Naoko asked.

"Tomorrow."

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**That was just a short little teaser. Tomoyo makes her entrance next chapter. I just started spring break so hopefully I'll update faster...**


	5. Four: Tomoyo

**To _TriGemini_, who caught the fact that Sakura's life is on a semi-repeat, this chapter's dedicated to you!

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**IV. Tomoyo**

_Paris, France_

It was Fashion Week in Paris, the time of the year when all the biggest haute couture houses of the fashion industry showed off their newest collections in lavish shows that were dripping with excess, vanity, and mind-blowing insanity. On the famed street of rue Faubourg St.-Honoré, the fashion show of designer Tomoyo Daidouji was about to take place. Lauded as Mario Testino's new discovery, it was the Japanese designer's first show in Paris. The ubiquitous press were in full force, celebrities were present, and editors of fashion magazines were ready to scrutinize every outfit coming down the runway. In short, it was just an average, normal fashion show.

Problem: Someone tried to vandalize the limousine of the Japanese princess.

Emergency: Anna Wintour, chief editor of American _Vogue, _was not in the front-row.

Disaster: Catherine Deneuve showed up unexpectedly and there was no seat for her.

Catastrophe: Head make-up artist Gucci Westman was ill, and directions for the models' make-up were missing.

Calamity: Supermodels Daria Werbowy and Gemma Ward could not fit into their chosen outfits.

It was full-blown panic, absolute mass hysteria backstage as people rushed to sort out the problems. Daidouji Tomoyo had never in her life experienced such psychotic mania.

_This is what you wanted..._

Ever since she could remember, Daidouji Tomoyo had loved drawing and clothes, preferably together. To her, creating works of art from luminous silk or rich taffeta was magic, a rare gift bestowed on mere mortals through the grace of Kami-sama. Fashion designing wasn't just a talent or a hobby of Tomoyo's, it was a religion. She worshipped it, saw it, touched it, lived off of it. She could still remember her earlier days, fresh out of the most prestigious fashion design school in the world, Paris's Parsons School of Design. She could remember staying up until the early hours of the morning, designing, cutting, sewing, turning figments of her imagination into a reality of cotton, lace, cashmere...and then having her dreams of being a real fashion designer crushed as designer after designer turned her down. Donna Karan, Ralph Lauren, Balenciaga, Yves Saint Laurent...one after another either gave her a flat "No" or a doubtful "Maybe." It was a humbling experience,yet at the same time one that fueled Tomoyo's desire and determination to become _somebody _in the cutthroat industry of fashion.

It was one day when Tomoyo had a revelation. Why the hell did she keep pursuing the people who did not want her? She wanted to be her own fashion designer, to have her own line and her own name. So why did she keep on interviewing with the same people who doubted her and sneered and looked down their artificial noses at her?

When the going gets tough, the tough get going. And that was what Tomoyo did. With the sponsorship of her mother's toy company, she put on a small show back in Japan during Tokyo Fashion Week. Few people attended, and there was barely any press coverage. But it was Tomoyo's luck that on that day, one of fashion's heavy-hitters was in attendance: Mario Testino, the most eminent photographer in the business that discovered and made dozens of the fashion industry's biggest careers including supermodels Gisele Bündchen and Jacquetta Wheeler.

It was Tomoyo's big break. Testino had loved her work so much that within a few short weeks, Tomoyo's designs were worn by supermodels in fashion magazines all over the world: _Vogue, W, Vanity Fair_. Overnight, she had become a success.

_And now here I am, in the most romantic city in the world on the fashion industry's biggest stage. _Since her discovery, she had given dozens of runway shows: Tokyo, New York, London, Milan. But never had she done one in Paris, arguably the most important of them all, and she was determined to make her debut to the French public a memorable one. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Tomoyo walked onto the raised platform in the backstage area, a peaceful oasis in the noisy, panicked melee.

"Everyone we have less than five minutes until the show starts!" she yelled in barely accented French, a language she picked up effortlessly while studying design in Paris. "Models, line up by the runway entrance! Get checked for any last minute tears or rips. I don't want you guys flashing the audience. Garren, fluff Kate's hair more. Mute Karolina and Carmen's lips please, will you Pat? They're too bright, I'm getting a headache looking at them. Where are my runway cheerleaders? Chloé ? Frédèric? C'mon, c'mon, people, hurry!"

There was a frantic scrambling as everyone headed to their respective positions and two minutes before the show was to begin, everyone was in place.

"Alright girls," Tomoyo shouted, "make me proud!"

And as the music blared overhead through the speakers and the runway lights turned on and illuminated the catwalk in an ethereal glow, one by one the models strutted out in various outfits to be greeted by the flood of white light from the press's cameras. It was adrenaline-inducing, a wonderful, dramatic high for Tomoyo and as she heard the audience gasp upon seeing her designs, she felt on top of the world. Whether or not they were gasping due to the beauty of her clothes or not did not matter to Tomoyo; all that mattered was that she finally made it to where she dreamed of.

When the show finished half an hour later in a frenzy of colorful strobe lights and sparks shooting up from the glittery runway, Tomoyo didn't feel the need to wait for the newspapers tomorrow to say that her show was a success-her gut instinct knew it. As she walked onto the runway to take a bow, the audience gave her a standing ovation, cheering and clapping for her enthusiastically. She couldn't have asked for more.

Walking backstage, Tomoyo smiled as she was clapped on the back by various people.

"Great job, Mademoiselle Daidouji. Splendid."

"Beautiful, beautiful clothes. You've set a new standard for the other designers!"

"You're elite now, Daidouji."

Tomoyo could have sang out loud, she was so happy. _You're elite now. _She was now head of fashion's newest, youngest house of haute couture. _Where you deserve to be. _

"Miss Tomoyo!" a familiar voice called out. Turning around, Tomoyo saw her assistant Chantal, an attractive young French girl with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes.

"Yes, Chantal?"

"Your offices in Hong Kong just received an offer from a Tokyo client. She wants you to design a wedding dress and three gowns for her bridesmaids."

Tomoyo sighed. "Chantal, you know the wedding dress for that Japanese magazine was a one time thing. I'm moving into haute couture now."

"Valentino, Alexander McQueen, and Vera Wang all do haute couture and wedding dresses." Chantal pointed out.

"I'm not those three!" Tomoyo said exasperatedly. "I don't like working in pure white and I-"

"Miss Tomoyo,this woman isgetting married to one of the biggest investment bankers in Asia and he has a lot of influence. I don't think it'd be wise to turn them down."

Tomoyo scoffed. "What the hell can he do? Limit my stock options? Tell them they can go to hell." She began to walk away but stopped and walked back, still fuming. "Who are these people anyway, thinking they can buy me out?"

Chantal was about to protest her boss's false statement but decided it was better for her to just say the facts.

"Ranma Tsumori and his fiancée Sakura Kinomoto."

* * *

**Ooh...will that ring a bell for Tomoyo? **


	6. Five: Eriol

**Thanks to: AirStriker, LadyAkina, Voulez Vous, TriGemini, backfire16891, Nikki, crazyfan4S+S, MizEvilBlossoms, ffgirl-07, bAbYgUrL08, Rebel Sk8er of CA, kawaii-fan, ahhmeii, Animefreakkagome, yumyumxp, MistressMizu, charlie and lola, ArtYume, 2LeeLee, Kokari, cherryblossomsakura2111, shaaarona, Lady Pheonix Ice Angel, kojichro, funkysoda**

**LadyAkina: **I never said Sakura's last name was Kinomoto when she was married to Syaoran. And she doesn't know she's married so it's not exactly illegal for her to marry again. It'll be explained more in the later chapters.

**So I've been a bad person again. Why? I wrote this chapter as soon as I finished the last chapter and it was all ready to go for the LONGEST time but why didn't I post it up? Cause I was lazy. So to all my readers...I am SINCERELY sorry, even though I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. And about Shrink in Law...I swear I'll start on it! I'm just having a major brain fart.

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**

**V. Eriol**

_London, Great Britain_

"Mr. Hiiragizawa, Miss Kensington is on line two. She wants to know why the orchids haven't arrived in Monte Carlo yet."

"Tell her orchids are a bitch to deliver."

"I'll rephrase it, sir."

"That would be a good thing to do, Kate."

Hiiragizawa Eriol was an event planner, and one of the most sought after, successful ones there were. He helped anyone who could afford his sky-high rates (which were usually society's most privileged) organize weddings, galas, and other grand social events. Overseeing every detail from what type of flowers and how they were arranged to where the event was located and how it would be set up, Eriol was a meticulous perfectionist that made it his goal with every client to please them.

Despite the occasional filthy word that came out of his thin mouth, everything about Hiiragizawa Eriol bespoke elegance and class. From his custom-tailored Armani suits and polished leather shoes, to the silver horn-rimmed Dior glasses resting on the bridge of his perfectly sculpted nose that framed a pair of deep blue eyes, Eriol was the picture of British sophistication. He was a practical yet sensitive man, with a calm, tranquil manner that placated his stressed out, weary clients. With his relaxed personality and impressive track record, Hiiragizawa was _the _man to turn to for event planning and he constantly received offers to organize society functions.

"Mr. Hiiragizawa, there's a new client on line three for you," Kate called from outside her employer's office.

"Tell whoever it is to wait. I'm figuring out the Morningtons' engagement party." Turning to his scribe Stella Mortimer, a young brunette with her finely arched eyebrows knitted together in concentration, Eriol resumed dictating.

"Let's see here..." he muttered a few things to himself as he paced the length of his surprisingly simply decorated office. "Helena likes blue, doesn't she?"

His assistant nodded. "That's why they're getting married by the Aegean Sea in Greece."

"Well let's save the blue for the actual wedding. Make sure you write that down somewhere."

Stella obliged as she scratched a quick note in her book and returned to the blank page she originally had in front of her.

"Let's do pink. Pale pink mixed with red. Very romantic, perfect for an engagement party, don't you think?" Without looking at his assistant to get her intake, Eriol continued. "I want pale pink roses mixed with large red peonies. Have the deeper colored reds at the bottom of the vase, and gradually fade upwards into pink. No ivy at the dinner table, it gets in the way. Put some ivy garlands in the larger arrangements by the doors though. No candles at the dinner table, too early for that. I want plates with flower motifs around the edge, seat cushions made of wine-red velvet-"

"Mr. Hiiragizawa, your caller is getting impatient!" Kate yelled.

"Dammit I'm trying to plan a party here!"

"It's not nice to keep your clients nor your secretary waiting, sir."

"Fine," Eriol grumbled as he moved to his desk to pick up the phone. "Put the idiot through."

A few moments later, Eriol was connected.

"Good afternoon, this is Eriol Hiiragizawa." he greeted the caller politely, all traces of his earlier annoyance absent from his cordial tone of voice.

"Mr. Hiiragizawa," a cool, accented female voice replied, "this is Kara Shimizu from Tokyo, Japan. My employer is getting married in a few months and he and his fiancée would like you to organize their wedding."

Eriol sat down. "Just the wedding?" he asked.

"The wedding and the dinner party afterwards. They are willing to pay whatever your fees are."

Eriol sighed. "Miss Shimizu, I'm afraid that I don't work that way. I only accept an offer after meeting my clients first."

"That can be arranged."

Eriol was speechless for a moment, taken aback by the compliant yet underlying demandedness of his caller. He cleared his throat before saying slowly, "Well..."

But Shimizu was giving Eriol no time as the sound of a keyboard clicking was heard and she said into the phone, "When are you available, Mr. Hiiragizawa? I can book you a flight on United Airlines for this Friday night, returning next Monday morning."

"Uh..."

"A three-night stay at the Park Hyatt hotel will be reserved in your name and transportation will be provided. My employer will pay for your airfare and hotel fees. Does that sound alright?"

There was a silence as Eriol processed what Shimizu said. Quickly glancing at his calendar, he made a decision on the spot.

"That will be fine."

"Very well. Your tickets will be sent to you by tomorrow morning. Thank you very much, Mr. Hiiragizawa, and have a good day."

"Wait!" Eriol said.

"Yes?" Shimizu asked.

"Who's your boss?"

"Tsumori. Ranma Tsumori."

_Ranma Tsumori? Who the hell's that? _"Thank you, Miss Shimizu." Placing the receiver back into the cradle, Eriol turned to Stella, who was sitting on the chair patiently.

"Do you have any idea who a Ranma Tsumori is?"

Stella looked at him, puzzled. "I'm afraid I've never heard of the name before, sir."

"He's Japanese."

"All the more reason why I do not know the name."

* * *

Mayfair is the residence of London's very rich, an exclusive area made up of grassy green acres and large mansions. It took Eriol two years before his career blossomed and he made enough to move into one of the giant living quarters, an achievement he considered quite a feat until this day. It was his haven, a place where he got away from all his frantic clients and the stresses of his business, an asylum where he mentally and physically recuperated.

As Eriol unlocked the door, a black cat instantly appeared by his side, looking expectantly up at him.

"Hello Spinel," he greeted tiredly as he bent down to massage the feline's back. It purred, before letting out a small mew and began rubbing against his owner's legs. Sighing, Eriol stood up.

"Nakuru?" he shouted. "Nakuru?"

There was a few moments' silence before a loud pounding was heard and a woman appeared on the landing of the stairs, her long hair flying behind her as she ran into view.

"Eriol!" she cried, slightly out of breath. "I didn't know you were home!"

"Nakuru, did you forget to feed Spinel again?"

Nakuru looked bewildered. "What? I fed him this morning!"

"It's been a couple of hours since morning," Eriol pointed out. Nakuru waved her hand nonchalantly.

"Whatever. It's not like he's dying anyway."

Eriol sighed. "Nakuru, we made it clear before we bought Spinel. He's your responsibility and you need to feed him, clean his litter box, whatever else a pet needs to be taken care of. The past few days, I've been doing everything!" He said exasperatedly.

Nakuru rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright, calm down. I'll go feed the little bugger as soon as I'm done doing my hair."

Eriol rolled his eyes. It was astonishing how a person like Akizuki Nakuru was related to him. Careless and carefree, Nakuru was able to calm and annoy her cousin at the same time with her childish antics and happy-go-lucky persona.

_Consider her a valuable asset, _Eriol thought as he walked into the large kitchen and poured himself a cup of strong black tea. _Even you get stressed out with those haughty socialites._

A few minutes later, Nakuru appeared in the kitchen, her trademark, ever-present smile plastered on her cheery face. Plopping down on the couch next to her cousin, she said, "So what's up, Eriol? New clients? New parties?"

Eriol nodded in response as he continued to sip his tea. Curious, Nakuru nudged him.

"Who? Who?" Her badgering didn't stop until Eriol finally put down his cup and turned to his cousin.

"Ranma Tsumori. Does the name ring a bell?"

Nakuru thought for a moment. "Actually...I think I read something about him the other day in a Japanese tabloid magazine. He's some prominent banker in Tokyo and he's supposedly getting married. They didn't know who the girl was but I'm sure if you go to a _trusted_ source, you can find out." She shrugged. "Has to be an important person on the Japanese social circuit though." She sighed, a dreamy expression on her face. "I miss Tomoeda, Eriol. And Hong Kong and Sakura, Syaoran, Tomoyo, and Meiling..._Touya..._"

Eriol's face tightened and he stood up abruptly. "The past is over, Nakuru. It's time to move on."

Bewildered, Nakuru's large eyes followed her cousin as he moved to refill his empty tea cup. "How can you say that, Eriol? They're our friends, _your _friends, your _oldest _friends. How could you ever forget them?"

There was a long pause before Eriol said quietly, "Because forgetting them is easier than remembering what happened two years ago."

A heavy silence fell on the two cousins as they remembered the car crash and the loss afterwards. It was a tragic accident that caused grief to everyone around Sakura and forced Eriol to make the decision to leave the pain and sadness behind and move back to his hometown of London. But while Nakuru thought of Sakura, Syaoran, and Touya mostly, Eriol's thoughts lingered over one more person: Tomoyo.

_It's Fate, _Eriol thought bitterly, remembering the woman who he had secretly loved. _Cruel, cruel Fate._

He would have continued to torture himself with memories of the woman he left behind had Nakuru not woken up from the walk down memory lane first and said brightly, "So are you planning the man's wedding or what?"

Eriol nodded. "His secretary called me today and just booked me a flight to Tokyo for this Friday night."

"_What?_" Nakuru cried as she jumped off the couch. "You're _leaving _me?"

"Just for a weekend. I'll be back Monday morning."

"How could you do this to me, Eriol? How am I supposed to survive for two days?"

"I'm sure you'll manage." Eriol said indifferently as he began to walk upstairs, Nakuru following close behind.

"Asshole!" She shouted after her cousin. "_ASSHOLE!_"

* * *

**Don't you just love Nakuru? I've never used her before in my other stories but I'm glad I did this time. **

**So Eriol's being brought into the picture too...and he and Tomoyo have a history. Or rather, Eriol _wanted _to have a history with her. We'll see, we'll see... ;)**


	7. Six: Syaoran

**Finally updated this after...10 months. Wow. I'm going to be shot! But anyway, this time it's longer and (hopefully) there isn't any useless fluff unlike the previous chapters (I reread it and I cringed...but only slightly!) Enjoy!

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**VI. Syaoran**

_Hong Kong, China_

Syaoran was exhausted. It was now midnight and he was finally out of his office and on the road home after a long day cooped up in the boardroom, battling with executives from a Saudi Arabian oil drilling company. Money, power, influence-when did megalomania become so rampant? When did the world become so absorbed in itself?

_You only live once_, _make the most of it._

He remembered when she had said that to him. They had just met, and she commented on his cold, hard nature. It took him by surprise, to say the least. No one ever dared to tell him exactly what kind of a phlegmatic character he was, not even his closest friends, and yet here was a woman who barely knew him and had the audacity to say he was heartless. Normally, he would have returned the invective, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the comment itself, the boldness, or perhaps it was the woman who said it. Either way, Li Syaoran found himself changing his ways-to please her.

Lost in his thoughts, Syaoran didn't realize he had reached an intersection to a highway. In a trance, he blindly ignored the red traffic light and turned right. In a split-second, the shrill sound of an oncoming car's horn pierced the calm night air. Instinctively, Syaoran's reflexes kicked in and he swerved his car to the right, the tires screeching as they slid across the pavement. The nearby concrete wall loomed frighteningly close. He slammed on the brakes, prepared for a head-on impact, but the car stopped just in time, mere inches away from the wall.

"_Fucking asshole!_" The driver screamed out the open window, "Watch where the _fuck _you're going!"

Syaoran ignored him. Instead, he was staring at the concrete wall in front of him. At the faint outline of a hole in the newly whitewashed section of it where a car had viciously crashed into. His blood ran cold.

_Here._

It was the highway. The one that forever changed his life two years ago. Ever since that fateful day, Syaoran had sought an alternate route home from the office in order to avoid the area. He didn't know how he ended up here-perhaps it was a wrong turn a couple miles back? Chilled to the bone, Syaoran quickly turned the car back onto the road.

He didn't want to hear her screams.

The next morning Syaoran was slaving away at his office desk when his secretary buzzed him through the intercom.

"It's Miss Li on the phone."

Syaoran sighed. What a great way to start the morning-a pile of papers on his desk, a report of a failing enterprise, and to top it all off his darling cousin on the phone ready to harass him. Ordinarily, he would have ignored it and continued on with whatever he was doing, but today was an exception.

"Put her through," he said half-heartedly as he reached for the receiver. Much as Syaoran hated to admit it, he needed Meiling's advice.

And she knew it.

"To what do I owe the great pleasure of you answering my call, cousin?" Meiling crooned when Syaoran picked up.

"I need help," Syaoran said flatly. "But before I ask, what did _you _want?"

"Have you gotten to page twenty in my report?"

"I'm looking at it right now."

"Oh good we're on the same page-no pun intended." She laughed. "I assume that's why you want to talk?"

"You called me, not vice versa," Syaoran snapped.

"You picking up is as good as you calling me."

"We're getting off topic!" He barked.

"Oh shut up."

Syaoran ignored her. "It says Fuyubare, Ltd. is falling in the stock market. What the hell's going on?"

"I have no idea. It's under the umbrella of one of our subsidiaries in Tokyo. I tried looking into it but of course everyone there buttered up the situation for me."

"Any hunches?"

"None. We need to go to Tokyo ourselves and threaten some of the executives in person."

"Your ideal job," Syaoran said dryly.

"Because you can't do it," Meiling retorted. "I already have everything in line. Thursday departure good?"

"The sooner the better. I have more important matters to deal with." He didn't have to elaborate, for both of them knew what he was referring to.

"I know," Meiling said, her voice suddenly gentle, "I know."

It was early Thursday morning when Meiling and Syaoran arrived in Tokyo. Already dressed in business attire, they wasted no time, going straight from the airport to the offices of their subsidiary company located in the heart of the metropolis. Meiling had grumbled about that, but of course, Syaoran won.

"Couldn't we have at least gone to the apartment?" Meiling asked, referring to the downtown penthouse the Li family owned in Tokyo.

"I already had Wei drop off the luggage there. Everything will be ready when we're done with the meeting."

And the argument ended there. Now, they were riding the elevator up to the highest floor of the building, Meiling feeling jet-lagged and looking harassed, Syaoran as cold and unperturbed as ever.

"I hope you did your homework, dear cousin," Syaoran remarked in Chinese as they stood in the elevator, surrounded by people, half of whom were escorting them to the office of the company's president.

"Tanaka Kiyoshi, somewhere in his late sixties, married with a son and a daughter, appointed head of Fuyubare by your mother. Is that good enough for you, _jackass_?"

"He's sixty-six."

"Go to hell."

"Why would I ever go visit you?"

The elevator doors slid open and Meiling glared at her cousin. She was about to throw a retort back at him but stopped when she saw the slightest twitch of Syaoran's mouth. How long had it been since he last smiled? She couldn't remember.

_Oh Sakura, where are you_?

"This way, Li-san," one of the men in their party directed, nodding to both Syaoran and Meiling in order to differentiate and acknowledge the both of them. He led them to the end of the hallway where they were graciously ushered into the corner office. Upon entering, they were immediately welcomed by Tanaka, a short, stout man with a receding hairline and a loud, boisterous voice.

"Why Li-san!" Tanaka shouted as soon as Syaoran and Meiling appeared, "How are you?" Grasping Syaoran's outstretched hand, he pumped his arm up and down exuberantly, missing the slight grimace on Syaoran's face. Meiling stifled a smile, but moments later she was subjected to the same treatment when Tanaka turned to her and reached for her hand.

"Li-san, it is good to see you!" Tanaka's voice boomed, "You are as beautiful as ever! Still unattached?"

Meiling smiled. "Why would I ever need a man, Tanaka-san?"

"You'd cut his balls off," Syaoran muttered under his breath. The smile still plastered to her face, Meiling elbowed her cousin in the ribs as soon as Tanaka turned around and led them to his desk.

"What brings you both here, may I ask?" Tanaka said as he sat down in his chair, the air whooshing out of the leather seat in response. "I was just informed of your arrival in Tokyo this morning and as you can tell, I had barely any time to prepare. If you told me earlier I would have hosted a grand celebration for my bosses!" He laughed loudly, an obvious attempt to disguise his nervousness at Syaoran's and Meiling's unexpected presence.

Meiling gave a frosty smile. They had arranged an impromptu meeting to catch Tanaka off-guard. Apparently, it worked.

"The monthly reports came in last week. It seems that the value of your shares is dropping."

"Dramatically," Syaoran added, his voice flat.

Tanaka's Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed hard. "Oh is that all you came here to talk about?" He asked, his voice falsely cheery. "You made a quick call to Tokyo just to discuss this? Why did you not call instead? You wasted your money on plane tickets."

"Stop whitewashing the situation Tanaka," Syaoran said coldly. "My mother may have appointed you head of Fuyubare, Ltd. but if you're not able to handle the job I will not hesitate to cut you."

"N-now, now Li-san," Tanaka said, his voice quavering slightly and an uneasy smile on his now perspiring face, "Let's not be hasty. I've been with your company for decades, a loyal employee of yours for years! I've been here since the days of your mother _and _father! I-"

"Sentimentality has never been his strong point," Meiling interrupted.

Tanaka was looking more and more flustered. "Li-san, with all due respect I am doing the best I can with Fuyubare and I know the recent stock index is less than satisfactory, but do you really expect shares to always climb? It's impossible! There's always a time when a drop occurs-"

"But your drop is the worst I have ever seen in my years as president of Li Corporation, Tanaka," Syaoran cut in. "Why is that?"

"I-I don't k-know, Li-san."

There was a silence as Syaoran sat in his chair, his gleaming amber eyes surveying Tanaka, whose hands were trembling.

"But since this drop in share value is extremely strange of Fuyubare and contradicts your usually consistent record, I'm not going to cut you."

A sigh of relief passed through Tanaka's lips as he jumped out of his chair and bowed in front of Syaoran. "Oh thank you Li-san," he gushed, "thank you so much. You are very kind."

Syaoran stood up, with Meiling following his example. "However, I hope I won't have to do this ever again, Tanaka. You are an old associate of the Li family and as much as my cousin begs to differ, I am quite sentimental."

"I assure you it will not happen again, Li-san. It's just that the Tokyo Stock Exchange has been fluctuating in the extremes lately and it's entirely out of our control. If you would like, I could arrange a meeting between you and one of our most prominent investment bankers to rejuvenate Li Corp stock."

Syaoran stopped at the door. "That is an idea, Tanaka. Who is it?"

"Tsumori Ranma. He's one of the best here in Tokyo and a close partner with Fuyubare. In fact, he will be at our company party next weekend and it would be an honor if you and Li-san could come."

Syaoran looked at Meiling. "What do you think?" He asked in Chinese.

She grinned. "What kind of a stupid question is that? Of course I want to party!"

His eyebrows knitted together as he frowned at Meiling's enthusiasm. "Yes," he said, turning to Tanaka, "that would be worthwhile. Li-san and I will be there."

Tanaka bowed low. "It is our pleasure. Good day Li-san, Li-san."

* * *

**How weird to use Li-san for both Meiling and Syaoran. I just noticed that in my stories I always have my characters meet at some type of "company party," an obvious sign to my lack of creativity. Oh well...I've speeded up the plot and Syaoran and Sakura will finally meet within the next chapter or two! **


	8. Seven: Tomoyo & Eriol

**I know everyone's eager to see Sakura and Syaoran's confrontation but I did say last chapter it would happen in a chapter or two. Well, the confrontation might be moved back one more chapter. Let me see how it works out.

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**VII. Tomoyo & Eriol**

_Paris, France_

"_What the hell can he do? Limit my stock options? Tell them they can go to hell." She began to walk away but stopped and walked back, still fuming. "Who are these people anyway, thinking they can buy me out?"_

"_Ranma Tsumori and his fiancée Sakura Kinomoto."_

Chantal Bellamont was not exceedingly bright, but she was not clueless enough to know that the piece of news she just delivered to her boss was somehow catastrophic. The look on Mademoiselle Daidouji's face after Chantal told her who her potential clients were was one of utmost astonishment-her amethyst eyes grew wide, her jaw dropped, and her entire body froze in place. People were calling out her name and congratulations, but Tomoyo Daidouji was immune to them, her attention focused solely on her surprised blonde assistant.

"C-can you repeat that again, Chantal?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Ranma Tsumori…Sakura Kinomoto?" Chantal replied hesitantly, slightly alarmed by the shocked expression on her boss's face. "Do you need some water, Mademoiselle? You look faint."

"Yes Chantal," she whispered, "that would be good…"

As Chantal rushed off, Tomoyo's eyes scanned the room for a place to sit. In a daze, she managed to make her way over to a chair by the stage entrance. Breathing heavily, she sank into the chair and closed her eyes, remembering that horrible day…

_She was sitting at her desk, deciding what color she wanted to make her gown. It was going to be a beautiful creation of satin and chiffon, a truly magnificent addition to the collection she was going to debut in Tokyo. Finally settling on a wine red color, she selected the appropriate colored pencil from her box and was about to begin coloring when the phone rang. _

"_Daidouji Tomoyo."_

"_Tomoyo?" A voice crackling with static shouted. Tomoyo blinked._

"_Who is this?"_

"_It's Eriol."_

_Her heart fluttered. Hiiragizawa Eriol, the one man she was willing to give her whole heart to but never had a chance to do it. _

I'll fix that_, she thought gaily, suddenly feeling lighthearted at the prospect of admitting her love for him. _

"_Eriol, I-"_

"_Tomoyo, Sakura's been in an accident."_

_Her ardent declaration died on her lips. "What? Is she okay?"_

"_I'm afraid not. She's in a coma. The baby's dead."_

She had caught a flight to Hong Kong the day after, only to be surrounded by grief and sorrow at the hospital. Through the glass window pane she watched as a haggard and disheveled Syaoran sat next to Sakura's bed, holding her lifeless hand. Eriol had been with her the entire time, but not once did the thought of telling him of her love cross her mind. How could she, when her best friend was in a coma and her husband was almost in one himself? And that was before the worst news of all…

_They were walking down the familiar corridor to Sakura's room at the end of the hall. Even in such dark times it seemed so right, her and Eriol together. For the first time in a few days the thought of admitting her love crossed her mind. After all, it was Sakura who taught her to always be optimistic and no matter what, to keep on living even in the face of trying times. But their comfortable silence was broken as they neared Sakura's room and the shouts of angry voices could be heard. _

"_What do you mean she's gone!?" a voice she recognized as Syaoran's shouted. _

"_Sir, you need to calm down," a nurse's voice pleaded._

"_How the hell can you tell me to calm down when my wife has disappeared!?"_

"_Mr. Li, I know this is extremely disconcerting but we assure you that it's nothing but a minor technicality and we'll find Mrs. Li."_

"_What's going on?" Eriol asked as they entered the room. Familiar as it was, she was chilled by what she saw. The bed was perfectly made, fresh sheets and pillows, no sign whatsoever that it had been previously occupied by a comatose woman. No sign of _living _was present, everything returned to its original state for a new patient to arrive. A young girl in a nursing uniform, her face blotchy and streaked with tears, was sitting in the corner, surrounded almost protectively by the hospital director as well as the head nurse. _

"_Sakura woke up and this _stupid _girl," Syaoran spat, "discharged her without any of the usual procedures of checking out. She just handed her the change of clothes Tomoyo keeps in the cabinet, helped collect her purse that was in the patients' vaults, and let her go!"_

"_I didn't know!" The girl cried, the tears coming down her face faster, a trail of inky black mascara traveling along with it. "Mrs. Li woke up and said she needed to go somewhere and she seemed in a real hurry so I just let her go and figured I would enter the data into the computer later!"_

"_But you're not her charge nurse!" Syaoran roared, causing the girl to cry even harder and Eriol to move closer to Syaoran in case he needed to be restrained. "Only the charge nurse is allowed to make the decision whether a patient is fit to be discharged or not!"  
_

"_Mr. Li," the hospital director said, "this is an unfortunate case of misunderstanding-"_

"_Unfortunate?" Syaoran snarled, "My wife vanishes and you call this unfortunate? This is a _disaster_! She's fresh out of a coma, we have no idea if she has amnesia or not, and your incompetent staff let her out into the city with nothing more than a couple hundred dollar bills in her wallet and the clothes on her back! _She could die_!" The last words came out in a strangled whisper, so emotional it was haunting. _

"_I assure you, Mr. Li," the head nurse said, "we will find your wife."_

But they never did. The young nurse was fired, the hospital completely obliterated-testaments to Syaoran's thirst for vengeance. It pained everyone around Syaoran to see how much Sakura's disappearance affected him, but they all knew that he would search for her until his last dying breath. She just hoped he wouldn't have to wait that long.

"Mademoiselle Daidouji?"

Tomoyo looked up to see Chantal offering a cup of water to her. Taking it gratefully, she drained it in one gulp.

"Call the Hong Kong offices and tell them I accept. Get me the soonest possible flight into Tokyo."

She was going to find out for herself if this Sakura Kinomoto was the one she, and everyone else, was looking for.

* * *

_Tokyo, Japan_

In all the years Hiiragizawa Eriol stayed in Japan, only once had he visited Tokyo. One time, and that was it. It wasn't that he did not like metropolitan cities-after all, London was the epitome of European cosmopolitanism and he lived there. It was just that the last time he was here in the Japanese capital, it was as a college student on a field trip, along with Syaoran, Sakura, and Tomoyo. Needless to say, there wasn't much else on his mind.

Now, as the sleek black Lexus (courtesy of his new client Tsumori Ranma) cruised through the streets of downtown Tokyo, Eriol looked out the windows at the city scene. Silver-blue skyscrapers towered over him, their glass panes the only things illuminating the polluted skies. The car passed by various businesses, their signs becoming a blurry distortion of words and colors. Thousands, perhaps millions, of people crossed the streets, all nameless faces that meant nothing to him.

_I left London for _this?

It was the first time he was truly seeing Tokyo, and he was less than thrilled.

"We are here, Hiiragizawa-san," the chauffeur announced and stepped out of the car to open the door for his passenger. As Eriol got out and brushed off his clothes, the man continued.

"This is the Marunouchi Building. Tsumori-san's offices are located on the 56th floor."

"Thank you."

Walking through the glass doors, Eriol took the elevator up to the 56th floor where a petite woman was waiting for him. With thin square frames perched on her nose and her ink-black hair done up in a severe bun, Eriol immediately assumed her to be the woman he talked to over the phone.

"Hiiragizawa-san?" She asked in her subtlety-accented English, "I am Kara Shimizu."

He accepted her outstretched hand, allowing her to shake it briskly. "Pleased to meet you in person, Shimizu-san," he responded in Japanese. He noted the way her eyebrows arched ever so slightly.

"Oh! You speak Japanese-I was under the impression I would have to translate between you and Tsumori-san."

"That's not necessary," Eriol smiled, but Shimizu had already turned on her heel and beckoned him to follow her. They walked down the length of a busy hallway, their paths intercepted by countless employees rushing to and fro with hot tea in their hands or thick folders. Finally, they arrived at a pair of double doors, the surrounding glass windows tinted a hazy black so that no one could see in, but whoever inside could see out. Shimizu gave the door a quick double-rap before opening it.

_The man must not do anything scandalous, _Eriol thought, marveling at how Shimizu could give her boss a one-second alert before barging in on him. He walked in after her into a handsome office-decorated, but not garishly so.

_He has taste._

"Tsumori-san, this is Hiiragizawa Eriol."

The man in the seat looked up. About Eriol's age with dark hair and eyes, Tsumori Ranma was a handsome man that radiated shrewd intelligence and cool charisma. Dressed in a simple gray business suit, he stood up to shake Eriol's hand and at once Eriol knew they were not going to have a conflict of interests.

"Pleasure to meet you, Hiiragizawa-san. My fiancée and I are so pleased that you have decided to assist us with the wedding."

"It's my pleasure, Tsumori-san."

"Please, it's Ranma. We're going to be closely acquainted anyway."

"Then it's Eriol."

The two exchanged smiles.

"Eriol it is then. I'm sure Kara has talked over the details with you?"

"Yes."

"Are they satisfactory?"

"The most generous offer I've had in all my years of doing business."

Ranma grinned. "If you're marrying the best, you have to have the best."

"She's that great, huh?"

"Wonderful. She's truly one of a kind. I'm so lucky to have met her…" He trailed off and there was a sensitivity present that contradicted the initial impression the man gave-but in a pleasantly surprising way. Snapping out of his reverie, Ranma looked at Eriol. "Are you married?"

"No."

"Have a significant other?"

"No."

Perhaps it was the flatness of Eriol's voice when he answered, because a curious look came over Ranma's face.

"Well Eriol, I guess all I can say is…enjoy your bachelorhood while you can!"

"Missing them already?"

Ranma shook his head. "Oh no, I'll never go back to those days now that I have Sakura."

Eriol blinked. "Sakura?"

"My fiancée. Her mother named her after her favorite flower."

_Sakura's mother loved cherry blossoms._

He had no idea why his heart was pounding or why there was a sudden feeling of warning deep in his gut. It had to be mere coincidence-many Japanese girls were named Sakura, and how else would a parent name their daughter that if they didn't like the flower? He swallowed and managed to say slowly, "That's a pretty name…"

"And she's every bit as beautiful as it is." Ranma sighed. "But yeah, I would never go back to my bachelor days. Meeting Sakura was probably the best thing that's ever happened to me." He looked at Eriol and smiled. "I'll never give her up."

The feeling in Eriol's stomach worsened.

* * *

**It's all important to the plot I swear! **


	9. Eight: Tomoyo & Eriol

**Did I really update this _last _May? Heh, heh...heh...**

**ANYWAYS...**

**I would advise you to skim Five: Eriol again, just so you can refresh your memory. A minor detail revealed in that chapter contributes to what I've established here, but it's not that big of a deal. ****Hint: it has to deal with Eriol's travel itinerary.

* * *

**

**VIII. Tomoyo & Eriol**

_Tokyo, Japan_

"_I-I think I love him."_

_It came out in a bare whisper, but somehow her ears had caught it and her large green eyes widened in shock._

"_Really?"_

"_Y-yes."_

_She squealed. "Oh, that is just wonderful! I'm so happy for you, Tomoyo!" Leaping up from the couch, she flung her arms around her neck in a bone-crushing hug that one wouldn't have expected her seemingly frail-looking body to be capable of. _

_She pulled back. "Have you told him yet?"_

_She shook her head. "N-no."_

_There was a bewildered look on her face. "Well why not?" she demanded._

"_I…I just can't." She sighed dejectedly._

"_What do you mean you can't?" Her normally melodic voice had taken on an edge, but it was still a soft reprimand at the most. "Tomoyo, look at me."_

_Obeying, she raised her head._

"_You are a beautiful, desirable woman."_

"_Sakura…"_

"_You are so gorgeous that every time he sees you, he wants to get down on one knee and propose to you."_

_She giggled. "Stop it Sakura, you're making me blush."_

"_Am I? Good. Because you need to be glowing when he comes through the front door in two minutes' time to sweep you off your feet and carry you away on his white horse so the two of you can ride off into the sunset together."_

_There was a moment's pause before they both burst into laughter at the utter ridiculousness of her romantic predictions. _

"_What?" She managed to choke out, "I thought that was very good!"_

"_It was very good," she agreed. _

_When the giggling fit finally subsided, they sat in comfortable silence. _

"_You know," she ventured forth, breaking the stillness, "you should tell him."_

"_And get my heart broken?"_

_She slapped her arm. "Don't be such a pessimist, Tomoyo. Look on the bright side, won't you? Be an optimist. Take risks._

Live."

She jolted awake, as though someone had slapped her face hard. There was a sharp intake of breath, but not from her.

"Oh my god," came a feminine voice from her right, "you frightened me. Are you alright?"

Tomoyo turned towards the voice, and found herself looking at a middle-aged woman. She had one hand upon her chest, no doubt trying to calm her still racing heart thanks to Tomoyo's sudden outburst, and was staring at her concernedly.

"I-I'm fine," she managed to breathe.

As the woman returned to her previous task, Tomoyo surveyed her surroundings. Her churning subconscious had left her mind blurry, and only when she saw a stewardess pass by her and small windows did she remember that she was on a plane heading for Tokyo.

"_Ranma Tsumori and his fiancée Sakura Kinomoto."_

Involuntarily, Tomoyo shivered.

"The stewardess left this for you when you were sleeping."

Tomoyo looked up to see her seatmate produce a boxed meal from out of nowhere.

"You should eat a bit. We'll be landing soon."

Tomoyo gave a small smile of thanks before slowly tearing the plastic off.

If the woman was Sakura, then she was going to need all the energy she could get to stop an impending disaster.

* * *

Eriol couldn't stop musing at how ironic the situation was. Upon arriving in Tokyo yesterday, he had immediately begun to curse how much of a _city _it was: the polluted air, the crowds of people, the skyscrapers and the endless neon—all signs of the blossoming modernity that the world was embracing. Yet now, he was feeling more soothed and relaxed than he had in a long time, and he was still in the blasted city.

Well, part of the city.

They were at Rikugien, one of Tokyo's most beautiful landscape gardens. Eriol had wanted to see the setting of the event he was planning for so he could get a feel for the decorations and Ranma, ever the gracious host, had taken the rare day off work to accompany him on a stroll through the park where the wedding reception was to take place. It was a gorgeous spring day, and the cherry blossom trees were in full bloom.

"I wanted to have the reception in this ballroom that was just built downtown," Ranma said conversationally as the two men walked along a concrete path littered with pink petals, "but Sakura insisted on having it here. She doesn't like being cooped up, said she wants at least half her wedding to take place outside."

_She smiled, her jade-green eyes sparkling with pure happiness. _

"_I do."_

_And on a cliff overlooking the glittering Caribbean ocean with the warm breeze blowing through her wavy auburn hair, she leaned forward and kissed her new husband._

He tore his eyes away from a young couple walking hand in hand over a bridge.

"She picked a beautiful place."

"I didn't put up too much of a fight." Ranma pointed to the delicate blossoms hovering above them. "It's fitting for her to start a new life in a place blooming with the flowers for which she was named."

The two men continued along the paved pathway, one talking nonstop, the other listening quietly.

"You haven't met Sakura yet, have you?"

Eriol looked up.

_I don't know. _

"No, I haven't."

Ranma snorted in disbelief. "Here I am, singing praises of her, and you don't even know who she is! I'm so sorry, I really am terrible at this type of business transaction."

Eriol shook his head. "Oh, no matter."

"When are you leaving?"

"In two days."

"Well, you have to meet my fiancée before then. You need to at least know the other half of the duo you're working for before returning to supervise the wedding in a few months. Are you free tomorrow evening?"

"Ranma, I'm here at your beck and call."

Eriol's employer laughed. "As bad as that sounds, it's true. There's a company party tomorrow, hosted by my firm. Sakura will be accompanying me, and you'll meet her as well as many of the wedding guests. I'll have my driver pick you up at six. The dress code isn't formal, but stick with a dress shirt and some nice slacks."

Eriol nodded. "Sounds good."

"Oh, one more thing." Ranma grinned. "If you want, I can get you a date to escort you for the evening."

At the alarmed look on Eriol's face, he roared with laughter before choking out, "Not that way. I'm talking about a matter of appearance. Single men are never viewed as favorably as those who have a woman by their side. It'll save you a lot of trouble from the bored matrons too."

Eriol sighed. "If you insist."

Ranma beamed. "Great. There are a lot of single young interns at my firm. I'll get you the prettiest."

"I hope Sakura doesn't know you have an eye for those things," Eriol said dryly.

"I have enough eye candy to last me a lifetime."

* * *

It was noon the next day when Tomoyo's flight landed in Tokyo. Bleary-eyed and still disoriented from the hours-long flight, she reapplied her makeup—slapped it on, really—before sluggishly making her way out of the plane along with the rest of the passengers. She was tired and irritable, and having to pass through Customs did nothing for her strained nerves. By the time she made it through the long line and rude officials, Tomoyo was ready to scream. The only thing preventing her from doing so was the certain consequences that would result from her less-than-sane actions.

"Where do I go from here?" Tomoyo sighed, not bothering to take a look at the signs that she knew were there. She was intentionally trying to make the lives of the customs officials difficult for holding her up so long.

"Baggage claim," the man said shortly, pointing at the board hanging above their heads.

"And where will I meet my means of transportation?"

"There should be people holding up signs with your name on it in the area," the man said dismissively.

Satisfied that she had annoyed her prickly customs official, Tomoyo walked off. She easily followed the signs leading her to the baggage claim, where she immediately slumped onto a bench, limbs sprawled out everywhere. At that moment, Tomoyo didn't care about her glamorous image—let the press photograph the usually impeccable Daidouji Tomoyo sitting like a slob.

While she waited for the carousels to begin rotating, Tomoyo wondered if she had a ride. Chantal had notified the Hong Kong offices, which in turn should have called this Ranma Tsumori and told him that she accepted. Common courtesy required him to arrange a ride for her, right?

Her question was answered moments later when a shadow fell over her and Tomoyo looked up to see a stern-looking woman with glasses and her hair pulled tightly back.

"Daidouji-san?"

"Yes?"

"Shimizu Kara. I'm Tsumori Ranma's secretary, and I've come to pick you up."

Ten minutes later, the two women climbed into a black Lexus and headed into town.

"Tsumori-san apologizes for not picking you up himself. He had an appointment with the event planner for his wedding."

Tomoyo shook her head. "Not at all. Thank Tsumori-san for looking out for me."

"You are his guest," the woman said simply. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a sheaf of papers, which she handed to Tomoyo.

"Tsumori-san has booked you a room at the Park Hyatt. If you don't like it, feel free to stay somewhere else. Tsumori-san is paying for everything."

Tomoyo blinked. "Oh, no, that sounds perfectly fine. Thank you very much."

"This is your hotel reservation. Since you flew in on such short notice, we haven't booked you a return flight. Do you know when you plan to return to Paris? I can make the arrangements for you."

"Designing wedding dresses is a nasty business. All the measuring, sewing, fitting…" Tomoyo gave a little laugh. "I don't think I'll be leaving soon."

Shimizu raised an eyebrow. "I see."

They lapsed into silence, Tomoyo more than a little uncomfortable around her new client's stiff secretary. An electronic ping broke the tension, and Shimizu pulled out her Blackberry. Scanning the screen, she said to Tomoyo, "Tsumori-san is heading back into town right now. If you're not tired, he would like to meet with you."

She was exhausted, but in the end her manners got the best of her.

"Tell him I'd be happy to see him."

Shimizu nodded, and promptly replied her boss. A couple minutes later, the device sounded again, alerting them to Tsumori's message.

"To make things easier on you, he'll come to the Park Hyatt at six tonight and you two will have dinner at the New York Grill. He hopes you like American."

Tomoyo shrugged. "I could care less."

They arrived at the hotel shortly after, where Shimizu checked in for Tomoyo and had the driver unload her bags and carry them up to her room on the 37th floor. As Tomoyo got in the elevator, she saw a man with blue-black hair and glasses walk through the front doors.

For a moment, her heart literally stopped. But then the doors of the elevator slid shut and Tomoyo found herself alone.

_Alone…like always._

Shaking her head, she convinced herself that she was an easy victim of jet-lag.

Upon checking into her hotel room, Tomoyo pulled on thin silk chemise and slipped under the covers, where she promptly fell asleep. When she woke up a few hours later, it was half past five and the sky outside had turned into an artist's palette of dusky blues and muted oranges. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, Tomoyo sat up and groaned at what felt like a seismic shift of brain matter within the confines of her skull.

_What time did I have to go to dinner? Six?_

Yawning, she trudged to the bathroom to freshen up. After rinsing her mouth and redoing her make-up and hair, Tomoyo came out and unzipped her suitcase. Pulling out a frothy blue chiffon number by Marchesa, she slipped it on and surveyed herself in the mirror.

"_You are a beautiful, desirable woman."_

The tears started flowing then.

* * *

Eriol was dining by the window at the New York Grill when he saw Ranma for the second time that day.

"Eriol! Fancy seeing you here," Ranma greeted, sliding into the empty seat across the table.

"After you dropped me off, I went upstairs and took a nap." He took a sip of his wine. "I was too lazy and tired to go anywhere far for dinner."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But you'd be hard-pressed to find a better restaurant than this one in Tokyo. Just get a look of this view!"

They both looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows to see the sun begin its descent over the horizon and Tokyo start lighting up. It was only half past five; the restaurant had just opened and Eriol had managed to snag one of the coveted window seats and avoid the evening crowd.

"Are you here for dinner too?" He asked.

"I'm meeting the dress designer here in half an hour. She just flew in from Paris this afternoon and I didn't want to tax her too much by dragging her away from her hotel."

"I see."

"Dinner is served."

They looked up to see a waiter set down a tray. Ranma marveled at how fast Eriol got his dinner.

"I ordered ahead," Eriol explained. "Avoid the noise and the crowds that are already starting to pour in." He motioned to the entrance, where a few people had just arrived and were being seated.

"Tactful," Ranma nodded. "I didn't even think about it."

Eriol picked up his fork. "Why isn't Sakura handling this dress business?"

"She was just promoted to vice president of her advertising firm and she's moving in with me. She has a lot on her plate right now."

The two men continued to make small talk while Eriol finished his dinner. It was seven when the utensils were cleared away and Eriol stood up.

"I'll be leaving now. Have fun."

* * *

It was ten minutes after seven when Tomoyo finally made it out of her room and up to the 52nd floor of the hotel, where the New York Grill was located. Usually she prided herself on being able to get ready for an event in twenty minutes or less, but the unprecedented crying episode had messed up her mascara and forced her to stay an extra fifteen minutes in her room so she could calm down, wait for her eyes to de-puff, and redo her entire face.

Never in her life had she felt such appreciation for a total stranger who had the foresight to predict her needs.

"I'm meeting Tsumori Ranma," she told the waitress, who nodded and beckoned for her to follow. She was led to a table for two by the windows, where a handsome, dark-haired man sat. Upon seeing her, he got up.

"Daidouji-san, it's a pleasure. Call me Ranma." His voice was low and pleasant, and Tomoyo felt herself taking to him, despite the knowledge that his fiancée was quite possibly her best friend.

"Tomoyo. Thank you for doing this," she smiled. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate not having to travel far to get my meal."

"I was always taught to never inconvenience a lady."

"Your fiancée is a very lucky woman."

Ranma sighed. "I keep trying to tell Sakura that but I'm afraid she doesn't believe me."

"That's a pretty name," Tomoyo ventured forth slowly. "What's her last name?"

"Kinomoto. Kinomoto Sakura."

"How'd you meet her?"

Ranma flipped a page in his menu. "She works at Tokyo Advertising, the ad agency that handles the account for the corporation I work for. We met a year ago when the company prepared to go global and needed an approved international image. She was the liaison between them and us."

_Sakura disappeared two years ago._

Tomoyo forced the smile back onto her face. "Will she be joining us tonight?"

"I'm afraid not. She's just been promoted, so she's working long hours to prove her worth. Not to mention she's moving in with me too."

"All while preparing to get married. An able woman," Tomoyo remarked.

"Oh, she's brilliant." Ranma agreed.

"When do I get to meet her?"

"She'll be at the company party tomorrow night. If you're free tomorrow evening, come and meet the rest of the wedding party. I've invited just about everyone on the wedding payroll. I know Sakura would be so happy to meet you."

Tomoyo froze. "She would be?"

"She just _loves _your work, personally handpicked you to design the entire wardrobe for her and the bridesmaids."

She deflated. "I see." She reached for her wine and took a deep gulp. "I'll be there."

Ranma's eyes suddenly shot up and a grin lit up his face. "Do you have a date?"

Tomoyo stuttered. "N-no, I'm alone in this city."

"Perfect. I just talked to my event planner this morning, and I told him I was going to get him a date with one of my firm's interns. Instead, why not pair you two up?"

Tomoyo shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

"Great. You won't regret it, Tomoyo. The man's a great catch."

* * *

**The good thing about updating so slowly over the course of two years is that you see how much my writing style's changed! **

***crickets chirp***

**Okay nevermind. **


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